All is Dust
by Gree
Summary: This is the story of Nekhet Squad, of the Thousand Sons Legion, from their recruitment to the Burning of Prospero and the Rubric of Ahriman. Comments and crticism welcomed.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes: This is a story on the Thousand Sons I am writing, done after I had read _A Thousand Sons _by Graham McNeill, great book.**

**This story was done as a bit of my Thousand Sons coven fluff. Mostly, for know, it concerns the pre-heresy sons of Nekhet squad. I did my best to focus on my characters and away from the characters featured in _A Thousand Sons_,. This story uses terms and drawn inspiration, but is it's own piece of fiction.**

**All is Dust**

* * *

**Prologue**

_You were on Xalas yes?_

_The Library on Zelosia Square, the National Library of Xalas Secundus. You were it's chief curator of rare books and data-stacks. A noble job I might add. You did very good work from what I had seen._

_You fear me now, but to tell the truth I hardly care if you fear or not. I have what I came now and I had the state of mind and the kindness to bring you along, which is more than you probably deserve. You should have felt glad, if I had not come along the Emperor's own wardogs would have trampled it underground in their typical ignorance._

_So don't fear, relax and let me speak to you. You accuse me of being a traitor eh? Really? You clearly don't know of who you are speaking to._

_Let me tell you of the Emperor's former warriors…….._

……_.The Thousand Sons._

_I was born, as with many of the legion, on Prospero. I lived at Tizca, the beautiful City of the Light. A glorious place which humanity will never have the chance to see again sadly._

_My father was a member of one of the philosopher guilds in town. My mother was died from a disease early on in my life. However I had a companion…. My cousin, Bakari Xalpia……._

* * *

**Prospero- Ninety years before the Horus Heresy**

The speeder pulled up to the ancient ruin, the old grav-engine purring and then shrieking as the speeder came to a halt. Bakari, the older boy leant forward and set the speeder in a resting position.

''Ishkor? Are you alight?'' he asked.

Ishkor turned to meet him. He was young, twelve years old, with his face already losing its baby fat. His dark hair was cut short and straight in comparison to Bakari's curly blonde hair. Bakari was older by almost a year, as well as being bigger and stronger than Ishkor. But Ishkor minded little. The boy was a reliable friend, if a little bellicose and rather proud for his age. He supposed it was for his father. Faros Xalphia was a member of the Prosperite Spireguard after all.

''The Desolation is just so….creepy'' Iskor commented.

Bakari chuckled. ''You scared?''

''No.'' Ishkor replied, a little too quickly. Bakari smiled. He patted his autogun.

''Don't worry, I've taken a hunting rifle. Father has taught me to use it. We will be safe'' he stepped out of the speeder.

''Let's go.'' Bakari said.

They had traveled deep into the Desolation, past blackened frameworks of iron arranged into large grid-like squares. These were the ruins of one of the long-destroyed cities on Prospero's past. Overhead the sun beat down hotly.

They found a larger, more intact house. One that looked bigger with a pair of larger wings that divided the complex. Bakari finished through his pocket for a pict-graph. He stared at it.

''This looks like the place Questus Museum.'' he declared. He looked at Iskor.

''Do you want to go in or should I?'' Bakari asked.

''No, I'll go in.'' Ishkor did not want to look scared in front of Bakari, not at all.

He went through the open doorway, shuffling past tiles and pieces of rubble that that had fallen from the ceiling or crumbled from the walls. He supposed it looked rather dangerous.

But he continued on.

Light stabbed through holes in the walls and ceiling on the first floor from outside. However much of the area was shrouded in shadow. Iskor tried to stay close to the light as he could. He looked around. Weathered husks replaced paint frames. Shattered statures were strewn around their pedestals. Exhibits were completely gone in some bases.

It saddened him to see a place of so much learning destroyed and wrecked like this. One it had been the heart and pride of the Prosperite Hinterlands. Now it was a ghost city.

Someone touched his shoulder. He turned around hurriedly. It was Bakari who grinned.

''Don't get so excited.'' he went past. Iskor noticed he clutched the autorifle tight. H looked around the room, walking around the destroyed exhibits, searching for their objective.

'''It's probably destroy, the Book of Yalol I mean.'' he said.

''Maybe'' Bakari shrugged. ''I'm not going to give up so easily.'' He walked over a skeletal staircase.

''Are you heading up?'' Iskor asked nervously, he did not like the state of this building.

''Sure.'' Bakari replied flippantly. Iskor cursed softly and move dup after them.

They emerged on the second level of the building, this floor being darker than the previous one before. It gave Iskor the creeps but he forced his fear back in his chest.

''Come on, come on, were are you?'' asked Bakari as he walked deeper into the floor, pulling out a small flashlight as he did so. The beam of light that issued forth was pathetically small.

Ishkor moved cautiously, arms outstretched, not wanting to fall through the floor and injure himself, suddenly his foot hit something hard. He looked around, eyes desperately trying to adjust in the half-light of the room/

It was a human skull.

He stumbled back, going right back towards the original stairway entrance, retracing his steps. When he got back there was a gunshot and Bakari was running like hell towards him.

''Wha-'' he was cut off by the sound of buzzing wings.

''Psychneuein!'' he yelled as Iskor got the hint. They both ran desperately down the stairs and into the lower floor of the building. A part of the staircase snapped under their running feet behind them, but they did not care.

Ishkor and Bakari ran desperately, hearts pounding at the rush of adrenaline. Iskor dared to glance back. The huge, insect like psychneuenin buzzed towards them, their wings practical invincible in the darkness. The stinger waved menacingly in the half-light.

''We ar't going to make it! Run! I'll cover you!'' Bakari stopped and fired his autorifle at the pursing psychneuein two of them exploded as the heavy rounds blew them apart. Bakari had always been a good shot.

Iskor stumbled as he reached the entrance, he hand reaching for the corner. He froze up. He turned around watching Bakari shoot another. The psychneuein were obviously sluggish after a long hibernation. He could see the speeder in the distance, but if he took that then Bakari would surely die. He did not want to leave the boy who decided to selflessly sacrifice for him. He was not worthy if he left.

_But if he left he would die!_

He did not want to die! Not here with his father and friends still back home. He did not want to waste Bakari's sacrifice. His heart pounded. He had to make a decision soon.

His fingers shook with stress as he stumbled towards the exit. He looked behind one last time. Bakari was still standing him ground. The psychneuein were closing on.

_I don't know what to do!_

Blue fire ignited in the air, striking the first psychneuein. He crashed into the ground, several feet away from Bakari, through the air a torrent of fire flew at the psychneuein who were thrown into disarray. Something ignited Bakari's hair and he dropped the rifle, swearing and running. Ishkor was already out the door and they ran as fast as they could to the waiting speeder. Bakari hurriedly ran in as Ishkor strapped himself in.

The speeder moved out, rapidly, away from the museum, which was now starting to burn more rapidly. In less than a minute the speeder was roaring away from the Desolation. The embers on Bakari's head were eventually beaten out as they stopped over a mile form the outskirts of the city. Ishkor breathed heavily as he realized how close to death they had come.

''Ishkor.'' Bakari said, grimacing at his burned head.

''Y-yes?''

''Your nose and ears and bleeding'' Ishkor brought a hand to his face and pulled it back. It was covered in a thin sheen of blood. Bakari looked at him with concern.

''I-I-'' Iskor began.

''Don't worry about it, let's get back to Tizca'' Bakari said, gunning the speeder into the distance.

* * *

_After that I swore to always be brave. I could not live with myself like that. I could not be a coward. I tried to purge myself of all fear. When the recruitment for the Thousand Sons Legion came into the central districts of Tizca Bakari was one of the first to join the latest crop._

_And I , the good friend, the follower, joined him as well._

_The initial tests were exhausting, the Astartes only accepted the best after all. We were tested both in the mind and body. We passed the tests, until the final one came before we where officially accepted as initiates……_

* * *

**Prospero-One Year Later**

Bakari looked upwards as Umar came stumbling up the hill, his skin slick with sweat, and his breathing heavily. He shouldered his autogun as he came up near the older boy's position.

''Where are Tolas and Atep?'' Bakari asked.

''Dead,'' Umar breathed out. ''The hunters are behind them.''

Recruitment squad Hawk had already lost two of it's nine members. That was bad. The recruitment squad ha been gathered from various hopefuls and put under a senior boy who showed command promise and sent out for the hunting trials. The whole thing was quite simple, they were being hunted by specialized combat servitors who would try to track down and kill them with live rounds. It was relatively typical of the Astartes training programme.

They had been issued flak armor, combat fatigues and autorifles along with basic rations. After they had been dropped off by a Thousand Sons Stormbird they had occupied a tall grassy hill as their temporary camp.

They were not told were the servitors were though.

Bakari had immediately taken control, his natural presence and clear head marking him out as a leader. As such he had ordered Umar, Tolas and Atep to scout out for exactly were the servitors were while the rest of Hawk stayed on the hill.

''Where exactly?'' Bakari asked.

Umar pointed in the distance, several hundred meters away, squinting Iskor could make out three large shapes coming around a nearby copse. They would take a few minutes before they got into weapons range.

''They are tracked units, with autoguns and chainblades for close combat.'' Umar explained quickly.

Bakari took this in rapidly, forming a plan.

''The Scarab's Teeth.'' he decided. Indicating the broken terrain in the distance.

''You want to trap them there? It's rough terrain, their treads won't fare well.'' Nassor Ishum asked. He was one of the other boys, around Ishok's age. He was something of a joker.

''Correct, and we have to move now, we are faster than the Hunters but I don't want to waste time.'' Bakari ordered. Rapidly Recruitment squad Hawk followed him out.

Over the hills and past several well-worn paths Hawk came to the Scarab's teeth. It was several deep ravines in the middle of a field of granite slabs that rose haphazardly out of the earth.

Bakari quickly explained his plan to the rest of squad Hawk. He would lead the servitors on, using the stones as cover. Umar, Ishok and Nassor would deploy to one flank and circle around the servitors after he lead them away while Valu and Apok would snipe at the Hunters with everything they had. In all together, it looked like a good plan and the rest of squad Hawk quickly and hurriedly deployed into their positions. After all, not only were their lives were at stake but their initiation into the Thousand Sons.

Ishkor knelt in the ravine, choosing a deep one with several rocks at the end. It was right near the middle of the Scarab's Teeth. He curled dirt beneath his fingers, readying his autogun. He was a reasonably good shot with a weapon, but it never felt like his true calling. But he was willing to take anything against the hunter servitors and it was certainly better than a rock.

Something coughed above. It was the sound of autogun fire, but not the lower caliber rifles that squad Hawk used. It was the heavier roar of bigger and heavier weaponry. He heard Bakari curse. His heart pounded as adrenaline flooded his body in the ''flight or fight'' response. He steadied himself. He would fight. Quickly he glanced around and saw Umar and Nassor wave him over.

Quickly the boys peered over a large rock. Three large shapes came into view. The servitors were pale-skinned human bodies plugged into movement units and sheathed with layers of flak mail. Their arms were a matched autogun and blade pair. Bakari was darting quickly among the stone formations, the bullets pinging off the rocks as the slow servitors tracked him. These could not be war servitors, Ishok realized they were took slow than he had heard about from Bakari's father.

Instead these were training ones disguised as war servitors, albeit still deadly to the flak armor clad initiates. At a short word from Nassor Ishkor followed the other two boys behind another rock. Then a shot rang out and one of the servitors exploded. It was Apok who made the kill shot, who gave a triumphant whoop, which lasted for barely three seconds before the other two servitors targeted him and blew his brains out.

Ishkor winced in shock. Apok had stuck his head too far out. But were the servitors really that easy to kill?

He was answered soon enough by Valu firing at the servitors with his rifle. His rounds pinged off the armor-sheathed bodies of the hunters as they fired again, having bullets pinging off of him. It was a lucky shot, Ishkor realized. Poor Apok must have gotten a lucky shit through one of the armor joints into the ammunition carrier in the servo tracks. However it was unlikely that the feat could he replicated.

Bakari hid behind a rock as the servitors halted and came up. Ishok inched behind them, circling around another rock formation. Evidently the servitors could only detect what was in front of them.

They appeared to be stuck at the rocks. Ishok noticed one get wedged between a ravine and a jagged stone. He tried to press on, but the ground was too rocky and uneven to proceed. Bakari took the opportunity to fire off a brief burst before another hail of bullets forced his head down. Breathing hesitantly, Ishok began to aim with his rifle at the rear armor of the servitors.

Then to his shock, the servitors began to writhe before stepping out of their track units. A pair of mechanical limbs was soon revealed to Ishok's shock as the two servitors began to march coldly to where Bakari was. A trick them, these servitors had backup legs in case for rough terrain. A cold realization hit Ishok. They were going to die. Bakari was going to die. They were going to fail and be forgotten.

Something sized him. He got up, yelling and running. Something welled up inside if him. He would not let Bakari, his friend, die under a hail of bullets. One of the Servitors turned, sensors locking on his form. In the distance he heard Bakari shout something. Heat filled the air as a massive fireball ignited in the air and hurled itself at one of the lead servitors. It was engulfed in fire. A high shriek of binary exploded form it's vox unit.

It toppled over, flaming and writhing into the nearby ravine. In less than a minute it would become a burnt and blackened husk. Incinerated by the unreal fire that Ishok had produced.

Meanwhile to his right the other servitors collpased, blood boiling in it's veins and Nassor bathed it in lighting. In seconds, it took was dead, it's organic portions annihilated by Nassor's own powers.

It was over.

Bakari stumbled out behind the rock, crossing the ravine cautiously, he went up to Ishok, who looked at him in amazement.

''I'm sorry, I ran out-'' Ishok began.

''You are bleeding.'' Bakari said. He grasped Ishkor's hand and pointed to his right eye.

''He's right, like tears of blood.'' huffed Nassor who came up.

Ishok wiped away blood from his cheek. His right eye began to hurt.

''Pyrokine?'' he mumbled.

In the distance a great shape flew over the white mountains in the distance and landed nearby. Silently, the rest of Hawk stumbled towards it.

* * *

_As it turned out, it was not a test to have us accepted into the Astartes. Oh, sure, it was a nice way to decide, but the real marker of the test was to see how developed the psychic powers of the recruits were._

_Placing them in danger forced them to manifest their powers more. It was a crude, early training method, but effective nonevertheless. Upon learning I was a pyrokine, I was overjoyed. You see on Prospero, psykers were welcomed and revered, not shunned on other planets. As such my induction into the Thousand Sons was practically assured_

_And indeed it was. When he returned to the Pyramids of Ticza I was inducted as a Neophyte into the Thousand Sons legion and sent into the cult of the Pyrae. I was a pyrokine, one who could control, manipulate and generate fire and heat._

_Such a gift was powerful, fortunately I had powerful masters to help me. Nassor Ishum was a biomancer, he soon joined the Pavoni. As for poor Bakari, he did not posses the needed psychic powers. Technically he was a psyker, however his powers were so small it was almost negligible. He would never be able to wield them in any significant manner. In other words that meant he was essentially condemned as a line marine._

_Bakari was accepted, he met all requirements and was sensitive enough to feel psykers, but my friend, who was braver, stronger, smarter and faster, would never lead a squad. If it was any other legion Bakari would have been an officer._

_But in the Thousand Sons it was your powers that played a part._

_Bakari bless him, never held as grudge against me. He was my most loyal battle brother……_

_I first met him again, after many years in the Librarium training facilities. I was assigned to an Adept Minor named Asten Aktar. I myself achieved the rank of initiate when I first entered war properly at the fields of Fadas……….._

* * *

**_Author's Notes:_**

I will be using a lot of introduce terms from the Heresy novels. I shall list the most relevant information here, as to not give away any spoilers.

The Thousand Sons are organized into 9 ''Fellowships'' which are essentially Chapters of about 1200 men. 9 is considered a good number among the Thousand Sons.

Corvidae: They can see the future, Ahirman is part of this cult and is the Magister of it.

Pavonii: Biomancers who can manipulate bodies, they do things like boil blood and explode heads. They can also use lightning to attack. Hathor Matt is Magister here.

The Raptora: Telekines, which means telekinesis, they can construct defensive walls of pure though and pick people up and throw them around. Phosis T'kar is leader here.

Pyrae: Pyromancers, the most aggressive of the Sons. Khalophis is Magister of the cult.

Athanaeans: they are telepaths who handle communication. They are ruled over by Uthizaar.

The fellowships are composed of all cults. For example a ten man squad might contain 3 Corvidae, 3 Pathoi and one Pyrae. The cults are more like philosophies or clubs than military units.

The Thousand Sons all follow the Enumerations, which is a part code/part psyker/part discipline which helps focus their powers. There are ten in all, but we don't see them being chanted. It's implied you have to master a certain level of Enumerations to reach a certain rank.

Ipsissimus: A theoretical rank, the perfect warp being. The Thousand Sons hold the Emperor as this.

Magus: The master of the Thousand Sons and all the cults. This is Magnus's rank.

Adept Exemplar: The highest rank you can get next to Magnus. They have mastered all the Enumerations. Only Ahriman and Phosis T'kar were stated to have this rank.

Adept Major: The next highest, most of the captains have this.

Adept Minor: This is the lowest of the adept ranks.

The three Adept ranks are entered by facing a trial called the Dominus Liminus. It's unknown exactly what this entails.

Philosophus: The last cult rank one can hold before they face the Domunus Liminus. All the members of the Sekhemnt hold it.

Practicus

Zelator

Neophyte: The lowest rank one enters in the Thousand Sons.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: And here we actually get to our Thousand Sons as actual Astartes.

* * *

''Are you okay Grannus?'' Bakari asked him.

The young Zelator looked around. ''Oh, sorry''

It had been many years since the day at the training fields of the Scarab's Teeth, and Ishkor had grown significantly from the fresh neophyte that had unleashed his powers for the first real time. His features had grown out in the broad feature of the Astartes, however his cheeks were high and his features patrician. His skin had a ruddy, reddish tone to it, something not uncommon to the sons of Magnus.

He wore a suit of the new MKIII plate, the crimson armor gleaming. The left shoulder guard bore the symbol of the Thousand Sons legion. In the circle was set the mark of the Pyrae, his cult. His right shoulder guard has the Prosperite symbol for ''Two.'' He carried a bolter, stamped freshly from the forge ships of the Thousand Sons and carefully oiled, and a sickle-blade sword with built in psy-crystals. Hopefully he would not have to engage in close quarters on Fadas, but Ishkor supposed he would be doing it soon enough.

Baltain however around him, flapping its ethereal wings. He had only recently acquired the tutelary shortly after he ascended to the rank of Zelator, something his peers had not yet accomplished. Zelator, the title felt strange still. He had already begun work on the Aras and Pranyama, the lower Enumerations. The ritual into the rank of Zelator was far more subdued than he had expected.

There was no chanting chorus, great powers unleashed. Instead a series of tests before a senior Practicus had confirmed his new rank and handed his new robe and granted him access to the higher libraries.

''You look troubled.'' Bakari said.

''I am just lost in thoughts of vengeance against the greenskin.'' Ishkor answered truthfully.

Like Ishkor Bakari had grown into a full Astartes. His head was shaved and the symbol of the Fifteenth Legion was tattooed in black ink across his forehead. His wide intelligent features gave him an air of warm while his hawk-like eyes took in everything. On his shoulder guard he also bore the symbol of his cult within the legion's heraldry. But his was of the Corvidae, not the Pyrae. However is powers were limited, merely brief flashes of insight in the best of times, compared to the greatest adepts of his cult. He carried a bolter and chainblade.

''The greenskins deserve to be exterminated.'' Ishum Nassor said. He lowered his MKII helmet over his pale handsome features and thin blonde hair. His shoulder guard bore a single feather, the mark of the Pavoni.

He was arrogant and bellicose, typical Pavoni.

''I think that was a given.'' Seron Khosaru said, chuckling briefly. His own, lean, predatory features were soon covered by a MKII helm. His shoulder guard bore the symbol of Athanaean cult.

''We fight to liberate them, the greenskins fight because they are bored.'' Came the voice of Epistolary Aktar, Adept Minor of the Thousand Sons and current commander of Nekhet squad.

A MKIII helmet floated across the arming bay, over the heads of various serfs to settle on Aktar's head, covering his foreign Terran features and his broad Ural forehead. It snapped into place with a click. The symbol of the Raptora was as clear as day within his shoulder guard. His tutelary, Talasor followed him, it's lizard like form floating in the air.

''Let's go.'' he commanded. Oktar, Amar, Thoth and Tair, the previous brothers of Nekhet were already within the Dreadclaw. All were Raptora except for Thoth who belonged to the Corvidae.

The whole bay of the Prospero's Pride, was filled with various servitors, legion serfs and members of the Thousand Sons 2nd Fellowship under the command of Magister Phosis T'kar.

The pride itself was currently hung in low orbit over the world of Fadas. When the 102nd expedition, with the 1st and 2nd Fellowships attached, they had found the Fadasians welcome the Imperial Truth, their noble culture having survived the untold horrors of Old Night. Their libraries had immediately been compiled by the Thousand Sons's legion serfs and scheduled to be sent back to Prospero, A small garrison of Astartes was left behind to collect the rest of the knowledge.

Three weeks after they left Fadas, the Corvidae in the fleet received a vision of Fadas's destruction. Magnus had ordered his forces back to the system. They survived just as the first ork ships began to land. Nekhet, newly filled with fresh battle brothers who had only seen action against pirates for the last three years, was ordered to prepare for battle. Here the Philosophuses and Practicus of the squad would monitor the young Zelators into the lessons of the Enumerations.

Ishkor himself put in his helmet and entered the Dreadclaw, he hooked himself up to the restraint thrones, Baltian coiling near him. Bakari entered the restraint-throne next to him as the rest of Nekhet came. Aktar commanded the pod to be sealed as lights began to flash from the ceiling. A short set of data scrolled down the side screen of the central part of the Dreadclaw's spine portion.

''Shall we begin the Enumerations?'' Bakari asked.

''Of course,'' Nassor nodded. ''It's not like you need them.'' he added the last with a bit of a barbed finality. It was no secret that the arrogant Pavoni distained the far weaker Corvidae.

''I would reply, but I expect you to master your own first.'' shot back Bakari. Ishkor was about to rise to Bakari's defense when Aktar intervened.

''Enough, we prepare for war.'' he rumbled. Quickly the data-runes flashed down and the pod launched.

The entire Dreadclaw pod shook and a steam of data-played on the side-screen next to each restraint throne. The rattling filled the ears of the Nekhet like an avalanche of a Prosperite mountain.

For what seemed like almost a minute it continued then there was a loud roaring noise before the pod finally decelerated, runes flashing yellow this time instead of red, before the pod hit the planet.

The runes flashed green as the hatches opened. Quickly the restrain thrones were undid and the Thousand Sons exited into the battleground outside.

A clear blue sky filled the air as Grannus looked around. Tall, blue-green trees filled the horizon several hundred meters near were the Thousand Sons Dreadclaws had landed on Fadas. The rest of Nekhet spilled out of the Dreadclaw. As the last one exited, the Dreadclaw sealed itself, quickly the squad scrambled out of the heat-wash of its engines when the assault pod lifted back p into the air again.

Vox chatter and the mind speak of the Athanaeans filled his senses. He quickly took in the information. Two hundred Astartes of the Thousand Sons Second Fellowship were ordered to move out under Epistolary Vosegus, an Adept Major of the Raptora. They were being ordered to move out, six miles to the western outreaches of Vashinpol, the chief spaceport and city of Fadas Prime. There the heaviest greenskin assault was reported.

''Does everyone have it?'' Aktar asked as he began the ground-eating walk that the Astartes were known for. Nekhet voxed their affirmation, except for Khosaru who mentally sent it.

The terrain of Fadas was green, filled with tall trees and thick bushes. Small clearings linked paths in and out of the edge of the forest that the 2nd Fellowship had landed in. A small river bordered the largest of roads at the edge of the forest.

Nekhet was ordered to take point.

Quickly, the nine-man squad moved among the thick green bushed and took the outer path of the woods, near a small, fast, flowing river. Rocks tumbled into the water below them as the Astartes moved. Above, in the skies, the forms of Thousand Sons Stormbirds and Dreadclaws filled the air, along with dozens upon dozens of ork ships, huge, crude metal contraptions that fell with an uncontrollable, maniac freefall.

Every few seconds there was a loud crash in the distance, signaling more orks had entered into the assault on Vashinpol's outer defenses, the Astartes quickened, they had to hurry. Dozens upon dozens of crimson forms hurried along the forest edge.

**''Orks,''** came Khosaru's thoughts. **''Three hundred meters through those forests and closing quite fast.''** he mentally said. Aktar looked around, voxing confirmation to Vosegus.

''Eight hundred orks, must have came from a crashed ship in the forest. Raptora-'' Vosegus's voice came on the Second's vox system. ''-Bring down the trees, Pyrae set to burn, Corvidae, Athanaeans, help in, Pavoni, this will be hard but bolters only for now.''

Aktar reached out, and Ishkor could practically feel the Great Ocean's power being manipulated. Along with the many other Raptora that made up the preponderance of the Second's ranks, they brought down countless tees. Blue-green oaks fell down, right on entire mobs of greenskins, cutting off entire mobs and crushing dozens under their immense bulk. It was all guided by the very thoughts of the greenskins themselves, read by the Athanaeans.

**''Keep in up, we've taken a lot out now.'' **Khosaru's thoughts came.

''Now Ishkor.'' Aktar voxed to the young Zelator. Baltain came close to him, feeding his power as he lowered his bolter and extended on arms. A torrent of flame conducted into the reality, a product of the Great Ocean.

Al round him, he could feel the other Pyrae assigned to the Second's ranks open fire with their own powers. Great balls of fire and ash were hurled through the forest in front of them.

Trees were ignited quickly by the unnatural fire. Quickly, the forest itself was consumed by a fire inferno, setting dozens of orks afire. Entire warbands were trapped inside the forest, blocked off by the trees or consumed by the flames.

Ishkor watched as a single, massive ork, covered in fearsome red flames stumbled out of the edge of the bushes, roaring and waving its cleaver, its features masked in fire.

**''Who wants the honors?''** asked Khosaru.

Bakari dropped the ork with a single headshot.

**''Well that answers the question.'' **the Athanaean chuckled.

''Let's go.'' Aktar said, as similar orders flowed over the vox network. The hundred Astartes of the Second Fellowship's squads moved off, leaving the orks to burn


End file.
